


O.T.R. (aka That Time aka Shark Week aka...)

by AngeNoir



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Menstruation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 18:43:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1909656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeNoir/pseuds/AngeNoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's had bad periods before, but for some reason, this month's is so much worse.</p>
<p>So.</p>
<p>Much.</p>
<p>
  <em>Worse.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	O.T.R. (aka That Time aka Shark Week aka...)

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I wrote this a long while ago and just found it - I know it was a prompt on the avengerkink livejournal, but I spent the last half hour trying to find the exact link and can't. /o\
> 
> Based on a period I had to suffer a few months back that was waaaay out of the ordinary for me.

Fucking hell. Natasha was never more thankful for her rooms in the tower and Tony's ostentatious decorating choices, because it meant there was a flatscreen television directly opposite her bed and she could curl up on her stomach, twisted a bit, the obscene amount of pillows normally at the head of her bed tucked all around her. She normally regulated her period better than this, but being knocked out of a third story window from the villain of the week (seriously, they were all starting to blur, where the hell were the therapists in New York because there were seriously too many people with megalomaniacal delusions wandering the streets) and then in an induced coma for an additional day to stabilize the brain bleed. Which, all in all, meant more than one missed pill, which meant her period had come back with a vengeance.

She had always had mild cramps, a few days of just spots, then two days of just a flood, and then it was pretty much over. Standard five-day period, and she was ever so grateful for that.

Because this? This was inhumane.

Her back ached, her abdomen cramped, even her fucking breasts ached. She had lost all patience to deal with everyone around her - with Steve's inexpert fumblings at trying to woo Bruce, and Tony teasing Steve mercilessly about it, about Clint having another one of his drama-induced fits because Thor had eaten the last of the frosted flakes, and she was just done with her moronic teammates. Over and done.

She had tried to brave a trip to the grocery store for her vanilla caramel tea that always made everything at least a little bit better, and had nearly come to tears in the bus because she felt every. Single. Pothole.

Every.

_One._

She'd never had a period like that, where just sitting in a car over bad bumps made her entire insides clench in pain and scream their agony into her brain.

It only took her two more minutes of sitting in the bus before she got off. She could walk; it was a ten minute drive by car, to an out of the way tea shop, and she'd walked it before.

Two steps let her know that she'd bled through somewhere, or was near to bleeding through, and she didn't really want to deal with that. So, with teeth gritted, she'd gotten back on a returning bus and went back to the tower and shut herself up in her room. She had a few go-to movies for when she was feeling upset, and there were a wealth of video games available in her room, so she was set to ride out this bad part without interruptions.

Well. Until she needed the restroom again.

Her communicator beeped.

For one moment, she considered throwing it at the window, but a) that would break the communicator and send a distress signal to her room and b) the window wouldn't break because it was reinforced, so it wouldn't actually get rid of the beeping.

Snarling under her breath, she began to slow process of getting up, praying she was shifting with gravity instead of against because she didn't want to spend minutes scrubbing at blood from her underwear for the second time today. Popping two heavy-duty pain pills, she glared at her uniform. Bending to pull up pants would be killer on her aching abdomen, but going to battle in fluffy fuzzy green pajama bottoms was not exactly smart, since they weren't protective in the least like her gear was.

***

"She's never late."

"She's not really late, calm your tits," Clint grumbled in the communicator, but he was worried. That morning Natasha had abruptly left the shared kitchen and living room space, had gone out only to come back ridiculously fast, and then locked herself in her room. They may be in one of their 'off' phases but that didn't change the fact that he noticed things like this, and wondered if she really had been released by medical those couple of days ago or if she'd slipped out without them noticing.

... Well, alright, all Avengers tried to slip past medical, but normally Clint and Natasha both knew not to do so if they were seriously injured. And he was beginning to wonder if she was seriously injured.

"Well, I mean, if you both were here it'd go a lot smoother but I'm sure Thor, Hulk, Cap, and I can handle it - "

Which was when Natasha appeared, every motion slow and controlled. Clint squinted at her pants - they weren't her standard wear. Her face, though, promised death to him if he mentioned it, so instead he replied into the communicator, "Scratch that, we're on our way now."

The hatch of the Quinjet closed behind Natasha, and she sat in the copilot's seat gingerly. He glanced at her once before initiating preflight checks and then lifting the Quinjet up into the air.

And, okay, flying was never perfect, there would always be hard vibrations from the engines, and yeah, he'd pulled the jet up fast because they were already late, but he really thought Natasha was overdoing it when she suddenly leaned forward and snatched the collar of his vest.

"If you do not make this the smoothest ride of your life I will toss you out of the hatch," she said in a slow, measured voice, small glimpses of her accent peeking through.

Later, after the battle, he brought it up to Tony as he watched Natasha sit on a piece of rubble and just watch as Hulk finished smashing one of the robots to pieces.

"Man, I don't know, I mean, I think she's okay? But maybe she left medical too early. She's been hugging her stomach a bit, you see?" He nodded at the hand that Natasha had just pressed against her abdomen. "So maybe something's wrong? Her movements were really conservative, and she's been pressing her fist into her back - "

He stopped, and felt like an idiot as Tony let out a grunt of surprise. "Well, shit. I would've just stayed indoors if I was like that. Why don't you take her back to the tower? Cap's used to dealing with me just not showing up to debriefs; he can deal with you and her not showing up."

"Yeah," Clint sighed. Normally he was more attuned to Natasha than this, and the fact that he had to physically say it aloud to get the symptoms and recognize the best cure made him feel stupid. "She's not going to like it."

***

Natasha eyed Clint suspiciously. "Rogers just 'said' we didn't need to show up for debriefing? Rogers, who is a stickler more than Fury about the need to review the battle and pinpoint our weak spots?"

Clint shifted awkwardly in front of her and rubbed the back of his neck. "I think he noticed you were moving slower, and you did just get out of medical a few days ago. He's going to force Tony to show up instead, asked me to take you by the medical instead, but I convinced him you just needed to go back to the tower. Unless you need to go back to medical...?"

Her eyes narrowed, and he had always had difficulty lying to her. She knew there was more to it than that.

But she didn't want Rogers convincing medical to take another look at her. And going back to the tower and curling up on her bed sounded like heaven right now.

"Smooth ride back to the tower."

"Smooth ride, scout's honor. I didn't do too bad getting us here, did I?"

She wasn't about to tell him that every hard bank he had had to take and ever thrust of the engine had made her entire lower body feel like it was on fire. "Well. Smooth ride."

"Smooth ride," he repeated, grinning eagerly. "But - if you were really hurt you'd go to medical, right? I thought it was just Cap and Tony who were stupid about hospitals. I mean, not that - you know."

At that, she had to smile a little. She knew what he meant - after all, every agent knew it was better to get fixed up than hide a wound that will jeopardize their chances of survival later on during a mission. "If I was really hurt, I'd go back to medical," she agreed.

"Good." He grinned, wide and boyish. "That's great!"

The ride back to the tower was smoother than the ride out, and she immediately stripped off pants and shirt and, in just her sports bra, she tentatively bent to pull up her pajama pants and then settled herself on her bed amidst all the pillows and sheets.

Which was why, when a knock sounded at her door, she glared at it. "What?" she snapped.

Bruce came in, and he looked exhausted - he always did, after time as the Hulk - but he was carrying a tray with a steaming teapot and teacup on it, a small bottle of honey and a few teabags on the side. "Steve mentioned you might not be feeling well," he said apologetically. "So, you know. Mint tea with honey."

It wasn't vanilla caramel, but mint with honey was a close second. After a moment, she gestured for him to bring the tray closer.

He did so, and placed it within easy reach. "I think I saw Steve making some of his rolls, so you might get him up here, soon," he said. "Do you want me to check you over? I know Tony and Steve hate medical, though you and Clint always seemed fine with it before - "

"I'm good, Bruce." She paused, and then smiled at him a little. "Thank you."

He ducked his head and left the room.

Bruce's words turned out to be prophetic - within an hour, Thor and Steve were at her door with, not rolls, but croissants with melted chocolate drizzled on the top. She eyed them a moment, standing inside her room with a plate in Steve's hands and Thor cheerfully asking if she was fine a little behind Steve, and then Tony appeared in the doorway with a couple of bags in his hands.

The three of them stared as he just walked in - unlike Bruce, Steve, and Thor, he hadn't asked permission - and placed the bags next to her and within her reach. "Vanilla caramel," he said diffidently. "Heating pads. Some of the strongest pain relievers. Other stuff, too - I asked JARVIS what brands you normally stock and he didn't know, so. One of everything." He grinned a bit. "I think I scared the poor cashier."

Indignant, and more than a little embarrassed - seriously, every brand of tampon and pads in every size and thickness? - she snarled, "I don't need you coddling me. I'm fine."

"Yeah, well, I know you are. Pepper's fine too. This is for me," Tony said blandly.

She gripped his wrist and squeezed.

"Ouch, shit, Natasha, seriously, it is! Look, I get - now you don't need to worry about it. You shouldn't have to, okay. I know you can do it. You've handled it before and you'll handle it after. But if you think we don't know how much you deserve some time being taken care of, then you're crazy. We're all here, aren't we? And it wouldn't matter if you were OTR or not."

Steve stared at Tony a long moment before saying, in a voice that showed he knew he probably didn't want to know, "OTR?"

"On the rag. At least, that's what Pep says. Sunset - " he paused, and swallowed. "Well, Sunset always just said 'that time' and I knew what she meant. But, look, I could do something for you, so I did it. You can donate it to a shelter if you want, because I know this is over the top, but in any way I could help..." He trailed off and shrugged his shoulders, trying to unobtrusively tug away from her punishing grip.

"Aye, Natasha," Thor said easily. "My Lady Sif knew we would only attempt to make this easier for her during her monthlies. We would do our best for her because we did not like her in pain. Much like we worry about you, and do not like seeing you in such agony. Whatever we may do to alleviate it, merely let us know and we will do our utmost to fulfill it."

After a moment, Natasha let Tony go. "That was nice of you. All of you. But for the record, I prefer this brand and this kind."

Tony looked at the one she pointed at, and nodded. "Right. Good."

"No more scaring cashiers."

"It's really - okay, sure, ow, no more scaring cashiers. Do you want me to plug the heating pad in?"

"Alright, everyone out."

Natasha was thankful when Clint came in to usher everyone out, because she was feeling more than a little overwhelmed by everyone's attempts to set her at ease. When he'd gotten everyone out - put the items away in the bathroom, poured hot water from the teapot into the teacup and set two vanilla caramel bags to steep, placed the chocolate croissants on the night table while keeping one on the tea tray - he turned to her and winced. "They're just trying to help."

"I don't need help," she pointed out.

Clint hitched one shoulder uncomfortably. "I'm pretty sure you don't need it. But maybe we want to give you what we can anyway, for our own peace of mind."

She stared at him a moment. "And what are you here to give me?"

"A back rub?" he asked.

For a moment, she stared at him, and then began laughing helplessly. "Right," she finally said, grinning. "Alright then. Get up here."

And, well. It was the worst period she could remember for a long time, but her teammates made it a damn sight better, she could attest to that.


End file.
